My Princess
by lionheartedbookworm
Summary: Aurora is sick and Phillip takes care of her. Fluff ensues.


She was miserable. Truly and completely miserable.

Princess Aurora was buried beneath patchwork quilts, her small frame curled up against piles of fluffy white pillows. Her amber waves were a mess, and sprawled out in messy strands all over the pillow. Gone were her sparkling gowns and jeweled flowers. In their place was a pair of what Emma called, 'sweatpants' and a airy cotton t-shirt borrowed from her prince.

She had only been in Storybrooke for a little while. She was adjusting to a new world, and everything there was to behold. She had wanted to see it all, to experience it all.

Except this awful flu.

In their land, they had had strong medicines that aided them during times of sickness. Aurora rarely ever got sick in her homeland.

She sniffled and reached for a tissue with a shaky hand. The motion seemed too difficult for her weak form to handle. She groaned as her hand dropped like a limp noodle against the pillow.

"Phillip..." She croaked.

His footsteps moved quickly down the hall of their small apartment and to her side. He sat on the edge of her bed, his hand instantly brushing across her brow. "What is it, Aurora? What's wrong? Are you alright? Do you feel worse?" Ever since she had contracted this awful illness, Phillip never left her side. He had gone so long without having her with him. Now she was weak, and she needed him to take care of her. Seeing her in such a state worried him to no end. He felt utterly helpless as this virus raged through her system. He wanted to help her, to take her pain away and put it upon himself.

He had been preparing her a bowl of soup in the kitchen, but he loathed to leave her for even a moment. But she needed to eat something, and she had finally agreed to it. She had been held up in bed all day watching episode after episode of some sort of show borrowed from Belle. The mother and daughter duo entertained Aurora for hours, and distracted her from the awful sickness that raged through her body.

Her petal pink lips pouted. "I can't reach it."

Phillip released a sigh of relief, thankful she was not worsening. "My poor princess." He couldn't help but smile at her. As miserable and disarrayed as she was, Aurora was beautiful. She was always beautiful. He leaned down and brushed her hair out of her face to press a kiss to her hot cheek. She whimpered and pulled her head back before he got the chance.

"No! I don't want you to get sick!" She exclaimed unhappily.

He chuckled, and pulled a tissue out of the little floral box on her nightstand. "I think I'll risk it."

"This is awful. No. I don't want you to get sick." She huffed, taking the tissue from him and dabbing at her nose.

"Well if I do, then _you'll_ be the one taking care of me." He grinned.

"And then I'll get sick all over again."

"And then I'll take care of you all over again."

"And get sick again." She managed a weak smile.

"Such a vicious cycle." He grinned his boyish smile at her and brushed his fingers through her hair. "All in the name of love."

She stared up at him with a dreamy look in her glazed blue eyes. Aurora would be lying if she didn't like that Phillip was taking care of her and being protective over her. Having him back was like a dream come true. She hadn't thought he would ever be back, and now here he was, handing her tissues and tea and sitting with her while she sniffled and coughed.

"Just a little kiss, please?" He whispered, leaning closer to her.

"I don't want to risk it." She whispered, her eyes fluttering shut as their noses brushed.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take."

She let him kiss her. Only because it made her feel like she was flying. Love surged through his kiss, making her forget the past. When he pulled away, she pouted her lips.

"I'd better get your soup." He whispered.

"Don't go." She curled her fingers in his cotton t-shirt, a sudden fear gripping her heart. He sensed the desperation in her grasp and gently pried her clammy fingers from his chest.

"Shh...I'm not going anywhere, 'Rora. I promise." He pressed another kiss to her lips. "You just need sustenance I have to take care of my princess and make sure she gets better."

"I'm not hungry."

"Then you should sleep. These Gilmore ladies will be here when you wake up." He chuckled, reaching for the little remote on her nightstand. He fumbled with the buttons for a moment before the quirky brunettes disappeared from the box on the shelf.

"Stay with me." Aurora moved her weak body over, leaving him some room beside her.

"One moment ago you were saying you didn't want me to get sick. And now you've allowed me to kiss you, and now you wish for me to lay with you? Make up your mind, my love." He teased, standing up to adjust her pillow.

"If you get sick, I'll take care of you. I promise." She whispered. "I just...I don't want to go to sleep without you."

He studied his sick princess, noticing the glazed over exhaustion in her eyes and the flush on her pale cheeks. He knew her nightmares still plagued her. She had been so afraid of falling asleep still. His presence made them less frequent, but not enough. He wanted her to wake up from those nightmares and see him beside her, for her to realize it wasn't all a dream. That he was truly there, that he really wasn't going anywhere. Never would he part from her.

He gave her a warm smile, and she returned it with her own weary one. Phillip slipped into bed beside her, and encircled her warm body in his arms. He adjusted the quilts around her, not wanting her to overheat. She nestled herself close to his chest, her small hand resting over his heart. He ran his fingers through her messy hair, humming softly as she snuggled into his arms.

"I love you." She mumbled in a small voice.

He pressed his lips into her warm forehead, a content smile spreading across his face. She was real. She wasn't going anywhere. They wouldn't be ripped apart any longer. He held her a little tighter, his hands brushing over her warm skin in slow patterns. "And I love you, my princess."


End file.
